


Timber

by eternaleponine



Series: From the Mouths of Babes [4]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Foster Care, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 22:31:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13936773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine
Summary: Lexa helps Clarke and her father build the treehouse they've been planning.





	Timber

Lexa helped clear the table, rinsing the dishes and stacking them carefully next to the sink, even though it was Murphy's turn. She even wiped up the puddle of milk one of the little one's had left behind when they knocked over their cereal bowl, before tiptoeing over to where her foster mother was putting the boxes of cereal and cartons of juice and milk away. "Miss Becca?"

Miss Becca jumped and twisted around to look at her. "Lexa! I didn't know you were still here!"

"You didn't say I could be anywhere else," Lexa said. 

"I meant in the kitchen," Miss Becca said, her expression shifting from startled to something softer. "Did you need something?"

"Would it be all right if I went over to Clarke's?" she asked. She kept her hands carefully still at her sides, her back straight. Twitching or fidgeting made you look uncertain, weak, and weak people didn't get what they wanted. "I made my bed and did my chores, and—"

"Did the Griffins invite you?" Miss Becca asked. 

Lexa hesitated, then nodded. She wasn't sure if they had _officially_ invited her, but Clarke had told her yesterday that her father was going to get all of the wood and things to build the treehouse this weekend, and they'd said before that she could help, so that was kind of like an invitation, wasn't it?

"All right," Miss Becca said. "Look both ways before crossing the street, and I'll expect you back for lunch, unless I hear from Dr. Abby or Jake that they've invited you to eat there."

"Yes ma'am," Lexa said. "Thank you."

"Of course. Go have fun." Miss Becca smiled, and Lexa made herself smile back, then walked as calmly as she could to the door, where she put on her sneakers – an old, beat-up pair handed down from some kid who wasn't here anymore – and headed out. 

Lexa looked both ways before crossing the street, just like she'd been told, and then looked one more time before making a beeline across the road and down to Clarke's house. She saw the piles of wood before she saw her friend, and a man dangling from some ropes attached to a harness up one of the trees. She paused to take it all in, and while she was looking up, distracted, Clarke came out of nowhere and grabbed her hand. 

"I was just about to call you!" Clarke said, letting go of Lexa's hand (which she'd managed not to yank away even though Clarke had surprised her, and her heart was pounding in her chest because of it) so that she could wrap her arms around her in a quick, tight hug. "Look!" She pointed at the man in the tree. "That's one of my dad's friends," she explained. "He's built treehouses before, so he's going to help out with getting the... the floor done. Not the floor, but I can't remember the word. Even though it _is_ the floor, too."

"Foundation," her father said, coming up to them and ruffling Clarke's hair. "Good morning, Lexa." 

"Good morning, s—Mister... Jake," Lexa stumbled. She wasn't used to calling adults by their names, or anything other than 'sir' or 'ma'am', because that's what you called your elders to show them respect. 

"Mister Jake works for me," he said, smiling at her with that big smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes and always felt like he meant it. "I'm glad you made it over." He quickly looked her up and down and nodded approvingly. "Close-toed shoes. Good. Sandals aren't safe on a work site."

"I know," she said. 

"Have you helped build things before?" he asked.

She shrugged, then nodded. "A few things. Nothing big."

"Great," he said. "Then you can help me teach Clarke."

"I don't—" she started, but Clarke squeezed her with the arm she still had wrapped around her waist. 

"We need to measure lots and lots of pieces of wood," she said. "Then my dad can cut them."

"Do you know what the rule is when measuring?" Jake asked. 

"Measure twice, cut once," Lexa recited. 

"Exactly! Think you're ready to get started?"

"Yes sir," Lexa said, then pressed her lips together, hoping she wouldn't be chastised for her mistake. If Jake noticed, though, he didn't seem to mind. He just led them over to the small lumberyard, which had been sorted by different sizes, and then showed them how to use the tape measures and T-squares and other tools of the trade to mark the lengths that needed to be cut. After double-checking a few of their measurements and finding that they passed muster, he went to help his friend, who was drilling pegs into the trees that would support the base of the treehouse.

"Do you think it hurts them?" Clarke asked. 

"No," Lexa said. "I don't think so." She didn't know for sure whether or not trees had feelings, but since a bunch of trees had to be cut down to give them this wood, and she'd burned maybe more than her fair share of wood in her life for fires to keep warm, she preferred to think that they didn't. Otherwise she would be a murderer, and she was a lot of things, but she wasn't that. Anyway, the first rule was to survive at all costs, so even if trees _did_ have feelings...

"Are you okay?" Clarke asked. 

"I'm fine," Lexa said quickly, forcing her face to relax out of the scowl it had slid into. "Where's the pencil?" Clarke handed it to her and she drew a line across the plank to mark the place where it needed to be cut. 

The morning sped by, and before they knew it it was time to take a break for lunch. Lexa bit her lip as Abby brought out sandwiches and carrot sticks and lemonade to the back deck, not wanting them to track sawdust into the house. "I have to go home," she said softly. 

"No!" Clarke said. "Why?"

"Because Miss Becca said I had to come home for lunch unless your parents told her it was okay for me to stay," Lexa said. 

"Oh." Clarke caught her mom before she disappeared back inside and said something that Lexa couldn't hear, and a second later Dr. Abby pulled her phone out of her pocket and made a call that only lasted a few seconds. Clarke came back and settled next to Lexa in a chair that probably wasn't meant for two, but they both fit, so they shared it. "You can stay," she said. "My mom told Miss Becca. She said you could stay for stay for dinner, too."

"Okay," Lexa said. She reached for one of the sandwich triangles on the tray – ham and cheese – and took a big bite, chewing slowly and looking around at all of the work that they'd already done. Not that she and Clarke had done much beyond measuring and helping carry. She hoped that maybe once the floor was down and the walls were up they might get to do at least a little more, but she wasn't sure. They probably thought that it was too dangerous for kids. 

Once they'd eaten their fill it was back to work, and Lexa was excited to discover that Mister Jake had decided that it would be all right to show them how to use the power drill. It was kind of heavy and hard for them to handle on their own, but as long as he was helping, they could help drive in the screws that would hold the frames of the walls together. 

"This is _so cool_ ," Clarke said, kneeling close to where Lexa was being guided in placing a screw, but far enough away to be safe. "Dad, this is _so cool_."

He laughed. "I agree," he said. "You two are awesome assistants. We would have gotten half this far without you." 

Lexa wasn't sure about that, but she couldn't help the warm feeling that she got in her chest when he said it, and she found herself smiling hard at the look on Clarke's face when they traded places and she got to try the drill herself. 

"It's really starting to look like something!" Clarke said excitedly. "Are we going to finish today?"

"No," Mister Jake said. "I think we can probably get the frame up, but we'll still have to put the roof on, and the siding on the walls." At Clarke's disappointed look, he added, "If we work hard and the weather holds, though, I think we'll probably be able to get it done by the end of the weekend." 

Clarke looked up, glaring suspiciously at the few stray clouds in the sky. Lexa knew they weren't rain clouds, but maybe Clarke hadn't learned that yet. She reached out to touch her arm and tell her that it was okay, that there was nothing to be worried out, but pulled her hand back before she actually made contact, not sure if the touch would be welcome, and kept her mouth shut, because maybe it would sound weird if she knew what the weather was going to do. "I hope so," Clarke said finally. 

"Me too," Mister Jake said. "Let's get back to work."

* * *

Anya wandered across the street, needing to escape the noise of the other kids. They were running around the yard, shouting and carrying on, and even her headphones couldn't drown them out completely. She could have gone inside, but it was too nice a day to spend it cooped up, and if she went in she was likely to get drafted into helping with chores or something, because she was the oldest and therefore should be the most helpful.

Anyway, Miss Becca would probably appreciate someone checking on how Lexa was doing. 

She followed the noise of drills and saws and music blasting somewhat tinnily from speakers hooked up to a phone. Lexa and Clarke were balancing a long piece of wood on their shoulders, carrying it from where Jake had just cut it to a cluster of trees where another man was finishing up putting down a floor that spanned between them. She watched as they looped the ends of rope over either end of the plank, and then slowly and carefully hoisted it up using a pulley system, where the man loosened the ropes and added it to a small stack of others waiting to be nailed down. 

She glanced over when she felt more than heard someone approaching and nodded to Dr. Abby. "She's doing okay?"

"She's doing great," Dr. Abby said. "She's practically an expert builder." She smiled, and Anya smiled back. "Are you hungry? We still have some leftover sandwiches."

"I ate at home," Anya said.

She saw the corner of Abby's mouth quirk. "That doesn't actually answer my question," she said. 

Anya bit the inside of her cheek, considering, then nodded. "A little," she said. The truth was she was pretty much always a little hungry, except for when she was a lot hungry. Miss Becca thought she was probably about to go through a growth spurt and was holding off on buying her any new school clothes until the last minute, afraid that she would outgrow them before school actually started if she bought them too soon.

"I'll go make you a plate," Abby said, disappearing inside. 

Anya considered going over to say hi to Lexa, but she was completely focused on what she was doing, and she didn't want to interrupt her, especially when she knew that if she did, Lexa would assume that something had gone wrong. So she just sat on the edge of the deck and watched her as she worked, her single-mindedness at such a young age both impressive and unnerving. 

"Here you go," Abby said, handing her a plate piled with halves of sandwiches and barbecue potato chips, which were her favorite. "Lemonade or water?"

"Just water," Anya said. "Thank you." 

Abby came back a minute later with a glass of water, setting it down next to Anya and then settling at her side. Anya didn't say anything, just watched as Jake and the girls worked and made her way through the food on the plate. Finally Jake climbed up the ladder to the now-complete platform, and he and the other man hoisted up the first wall and got to work securing it, leaving the girls at loose ends on the ground. 

A song started to play, and Clarke dashed over to turn it up. "Perfect!" she said, running back to Lexa and hooking arms with her, do-si-do-ing on the lawn as the song, and yelling, "Timber!" just like the song said. Anya groaned.

"What?" Abby asked. "Everything all right?"

"Have you ever actually listened to the lyrics of this song?" Anya asked. "I know that they think it's just talking about trees falling, but, well..." She pulled her phone out of her pocket and googled the lyrics, then handed it to Abby and watched as her eyes got wide, and then wider.

"That's..." She shook her head. "I don't know whether to tell them they can never listen to the song again, which will almost certainly backfire, or hope that it's years before they actually understand it." 

"Yeah," Anya said, because she didn't know what else to say. She knew – maybe not better than Abby, but she certainly had much more recent experience – just how gross guys could be, and the idea of these girls, too young to understand what they were saying, singing along to this song and being overheard by some dirty old man, or even some older teenager... It was enough to make her stomach turn. 

"I think for today we should just let them be kids," Abby said after a moment. "They're having fun. I don't want to ruin that."

"Yeah," Anya said again. She felt Abby's hand on her back and almost twitched away, but managed not to, because she knew she meant for it to be comforting, and in a way it was. 

"I think we've got some cookies inside," Abby said, "if you want some dessert."

"I'm okay," Anya said, her appetite killed by the thought that there was nothing she could do to protect Lexa, or Clarke either, from the reality of the world, at least for girls. Eventually they would learn, and the best they could hope for was that it was just rude comments and nothing worse. 

"I'm sure they could use another hand, if you wanted something to do," Abby said. "Those walls are pretty heavy, even with the pulleys." 

Anya considered, then nodded. She finished the last few bites of her sandwich even though she wasn't really hungry anymore, and the remaining chips, and then went over to where Clarke and Lexa had finished dancing and were now staring up at the men at work.

* * *

"Hi Anya!" Clarke said, waving as the older girl approached. Lexa looked up and waved too, a shy curling of her fingers. Sometimes she forgot that Clarke knew Anya, had in fact known her longer than Lexa had. It gave her a strange feeling that she told herself wasn't jealousy, but maybe kind of was. Anya didn't belong to her; she didn't get to say who she knew and who she didn't, who she got to be friends with. But she couldn't help wondering if maybe Anya liked Clarke better, or would if she knew her more.

"Hey," Anya said. "Your mom thought maybe you could use an extra hand getting those walls up, although it looks like you're doing a pretty good job on your own."

Clarke wrinkled her nose like she wasn't sure whether she wanted to accept the offer of help or not. Lexa nudged her shoulder into Clarke's without thinking. "It _was_ pretty wobbly," she pointed out. "We almost banged it into the tree."

"That's true," Clarke said. "I guess it would be helpful to have someone to help steady things."

"I can do that," Anya said. "Is this going to be your secret hideout?"

"It's not very secret," Lexa said. "You can see it from the house."

"You have a point," Anya acknowledged. "Clubhouse then?"

"Maybe," Clarke said. "We don't really have a club."

"Whatever it ends up, I have to say I'm a little bit jealous." Anya winked at Lexa. "You'll have somewhere to go to escape all the kids at home."

"Only if Miss Becca and Dr. Abby and Mister Jake and Clarke say it's okay," Lexa said. "It's not mine."

"It's _ours_ ," Clarke said. "We designed it and we're helping build it. You've done more than me, even, so it's just as much yours as mine." She slid her arm around Lexa's waist again, pulling her in until they bumped hips. "You can come here any time you want."

Lexa knew that wasn't true. She still had her foster mother to deal with, and she wasn't sure that Clarke's parents would agree that it was okay for her to trespass any time she wanted. But she didn't say anything, because she didn't want to argue with Clarke. Clarke could be very stubborn when she wanted to be, and she wanted to be pretty much any time someone told her she might not be right. 

"Okay, girls," Jake said, looking over the edge at them. "We're ready for the next wall. Oh hi, Anya!"

"Hi," she said. "Which one do you need next?"

"That one there," Jake said, pointing, and then came down when they couldn't quite lift and maneuver it on their own. Once it was safely hooked up to the pulleys, he climbed back up to guide it from above, and they pulled and tugged it up into place. They did it again twice more, and then when all of the walls were up, he invited them to come check it out.

Dr. Abby stayed at the bottom of the ladder, holding it steady as they climbed. Even Anya went up. They stood on what would be a sort of small deck in front of the house part of the treehouse and looked out. 

Clarke gripped her hand, squeezing hard. "You can see the whole neighborhood!" she said. "Look! Down there is Octavia and Bellamy's house!" She waved, even though there was no one outside to see them. "This is so amazing."

Jake came up behind him and slung his arms around both their shoulders, and Lexa tried not to flinch at the touch. "You two worked hard today," he said. "I'm very proud of you." 

"Thanks, Dad," Clarke said, turning to hug him. Lexa took a small step away, and felt Anya's hand firm on her back, keeping her from stepping too close to the edge. "Are you _sure_ we can't finish today?"

"I'm sure," he said. "I think it's time to call it quits for the day."

"But it's not dark yet!" Clarke protested.

"I know, but we've done a lot, and now I need a break. Anyway, if we're going to have a barbecue, I need to get the grill started, right? I don't know about you, but I'm getting hungry again." Jake looked over their heads at Anya. "You're welcome to stay, of course," he said. "Thanks for letting us rope you in to help."

Anya nodded, and after another few minutes of admiring the view, they all climbed back down to the ground. Jake got the grill started, just like he'd said, and pretty soon the air was filled with the good smells of cooking meat. 

"Hey!" Clarke said, hastily chewing and swallowing so she didn't get in trouble for talking with her mouth full. "Maybe since we're not done yet so you'll have to come back tomorrow anyway, you can sleep over!" 

Lexa blinked, pressing her lips together, then looked over at Anya, who raised an eyebrow. "Maybe," Lexa said cautiously. "I would have to ask." But she wasn't sure that she wanted to ask. She liked Clarke, and she knew that Clarke liked her, but if they spent too much time together, Clarke might realize that she wasn't like regular kids, and then maybe she wouldn't want to be friends anymore. 

"After dinner," Clarke said, squeezing her hand tight. 

The deadline for making a decision – because she wasn't allowed to say that Miss Becca said no without actually asking first – came way too quickly, even with the time it took to make s'mores over the still-hot grill. 

"Why don't we walk home?" Anya asked, "and you can ask in person. You'll need to pack pajamas and clothes for tomorrow anyway if you're staying over."

Lexa nodded, swallowing hard. "I'll, uh, I'll let you know," she said to Clarke. 

"She'll say yes," Clarke said, pulling her into hug anyway. "I know she will. So I'll see you soon."

Lexa didn't hug her back, but Clarke didn't seem to notice. She was too busy brushing the last bits of sawdust off herself so her mother would let her inside. Lexa watched her for a second longer, then followed Anya home and up to their room... after spending a few minutes on the porch making sure she wasn't tracking sawdust into their house, either. 

"Here," Anya said, handing her a battered old green backpack. "You can use this."

"For what?" Lexa asked.

"To put your stuff in," Anya said. 

"Oh." Lexa bit her lip. "What if I don't want to go?"

Anya sat down on the edge of her bed and sighed. "Why wouldn't you want to go?"

Lexa shrugged. 

"That's not an answer," Anya said. "Give me one good reason why you don't want to spend the night at Clarke's."

"I might say something or do something that makes her not want to be my friend anymore," Lexa said, the truth out before she could even think about trying to stop it. "I don't want her to not want to be my friend anymore."

Anya shook her head and patted the place on the bed next to her. "Has that happened yet?" she asked.

"No, but—"

"No buts," Anya said. "It hasn't happened yet because it's not going to happen. I'm pretty sure that Clarke has already figured out that you didn't grow up like she grew up. I think that unless you say or do something that is actually mean, she's going to keep wanting to be your friend, even if she doesn't always understand the things that you say and do. Would you not want to be her friend just because she said something you didn't understand?"

"No!" Lexa said. 

"Then why would it be any different for her?" Anya asked. "Just give it a try. If you change your mind later, you can always come home."

Lexa hadn't thought of that. "Okay," she said. "I'll try." 

"Good girl," Anya said, putting her arm around Lexa's shoulders and squeezing her like Clarke did. "And don't worry about missing a night of Harry Potter. We'll catch up tomorrow."

Lexa felt her face forming a smile without even trying. "Okay." She took the backpack from Anya and packed her best pajamas – the ones with sloths on them – and some clothes for tomorrow that she knew Miss Becca wouldn't be mad if she got them a little extra dirty. She packed her toothbrush and hairbrush and then looked at Anya, suddenly uncertain.

"Just go downstairs and ask," Anya said. When Lexa still hesitated, she rolled her eyes and stood up. "I'll go with you."

They went downstairs and found Miss Becca in the living room, her reading glasses on but she wasn't reading, unless she'd developed the power to do so through closed eyelids. Lexa looked at Anya, worried now because how could she ask if—

Anya cleared her throat. "Miss Becca?"

She jerked awake and smiled sheepishly at them. "Guess I drifted off for a minute," she said. "Did you need something?"

"Lexa has something she wants to ask," Anya prompted. 

Lexa swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. "We didn't finish the treehouse," she said, "but Mister Jake says we probably will tomorrow, so I'll have to go over – I mean if you let me, I'll—" She frowned, took a breath. "Clarke invited me to spend the night so I can help finish building the treehouse tomorrow," she said finally. "Is that okay?"

"That's fine," Miss Becca said, so quickly that Lexa wondered if maybe Dr. Abby had already called her to ask. "Anya, do you mind walking her over?"

"I don't mind," Anya said. She nudged Lexa. 

"Thank you, ma—Miss Becca," Lexa said obediently. 

"Be on your best behavior," Miss Becca said. "Call me if you need anything."

"Yes ma'am," Lexa said. She picked up the bag that she'd left in the hall, and a minute later they were back across the street. 

Anya leaned down when they got to the porch and brushed back a stray strand of her hair. "I'm proud of you," she said softly. It was the second time that day that someone had said that to her, and it made Lexa feel warm and a little bit squirmy inside, because it felt good, but she wasn't sure that it should, because what had she done that was worth being proud of? "I'll see you tomorrow," Anya added.

"Are you going to come help again?" Lexa asked. 

"Depends what you're having for lunch," Anya said grinning. "Have fun. You're gonna be fine."

The door pulled open and Clarke pushed through the screen door. "Come on!" she said. "We need to take showers and then we're going to watch a movie!" 

"Good night," Anya called as Clarke pulled her inside, shutting the door behind them and tugging on her hand so that she followed her up the stairs. They took turns in the shower, and even though Lexa had thought she'd managed to get all of the sawdust off of herself before, it turned out that she was definitely wrong. When she got out, Dr. Abby sprayed her hair with something that would help with any tangles, and then brushed it out and braided it for her, just like she had for Clarke. 

"Look," Clarke said, "we can make a nest." She pulled together a bunch of big squashy cushions and some pillows and blankets, and soon they were settled into it, close enough to each other that their knees and elbows sometimes bumped when they moved, and Lexa could feel the warmth coming from Clarke's skin, which felt nice because the house was kind of a little chilly with the air conditioning on her damp skin and hair. 

"You can pick the movie if you want to," Clarke said. 

Lexa shook her head. "You can pick," she said. She bit her lip, and then added, more quietly, "I don't really know any movies." 

Clarke looked at her for a long moment, and Lexa made herself not look away. She thought at first that Clarke was going to ask how she could not know any movies, but she didn't. She just got up and chose a movie from the shelf and put the disc in the machine, then laid back down in their pillow and blanket nest, even closer than before, as it began to play. 

By the time the movie was over, they were both yawning and struggling to keep their eyes open. "Bedtime," Dr. Abby said. 

"Can't we just stay here?" Clarke asked. "It's comfy."

"If you promise to keep the TV off," she said, "then okay. But you still need to get up and brush your teeth."

"Okay," Clarke grumbled, and they did as they were told. 

When they were settled back in, Abby and Jake both wished them goodnight, with hugs and kisses for both of them, which Lexa held still for because she wasn't sure what else to do. It wasn't that she minded... she just wasn't used to it. "Good night, sleep tight, see you in the morning light," Jake said, and then switched off the light.

Lexa felt more than saw Clarke roll to face her. "Today was the best day," she whispered. "I'm glad that you moved here," she said, "and I'm glad you had the idea for a treehouse."

"It wasn't just my idea," Lexa pointed out. 

"It was mostly your idea," Clarke said. "Most especially, I'm glad you stayed." Lexa felt Clarke's hand over her own, lacing their fingers together, and her stomach filled with butterflies. 

"Me too," she whispered, squeezing Clarke's hand just a little. "Me too."

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously, though, how messed up is this song?
> 
> [Pitbull feat. Kesha - Timber](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d4Pba9jKoJU)


End file.
